


Must Love Dogs

by common_thing



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Bestiality, Humiliation, Knotting, M/M, Other, Rimming, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 17:01:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3454898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/common_thing/pseuds/common_thing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared applies for a job helping out at Ackles Dog Kennel.  He soon finds out that his job description isn't quite what he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags--this story contains graphic bestiality. If it's not your cup of tea, please don't read it.
> 
> This is an old fill from the SPN Kink Meme. Originally posted in 2010; I've decided to upload these old fics to AO3 for safe-keeping. Back in 2010, I intended to continue this story...obviously that never happened. It's not really a WIP, but it does end rather abruptly.

Kennel Help Wanted!

Successful breeding and showing kennel looking for just the right candidate to help with caring for and breeding the dogs. Great hours and benefits. We will pay a premium for the right person! The work is very physical—you must be in good shape and a hard worker. Enthusiasm, passion, and open-mindedness a plus. MUST *LOVE* DOGS—you will be working *very* closely with them. The right candidate will be passionate about animals.

Call Jensen @ Ackles Kennels (555)555-0342

 

"So, what questions do you have, Jared?” Ackles asks.  
The interview has been going well, Jared thinks. Mr. Ackles, Jensen, seems like he’d be a good guy to work for, easygoing and plain-spoken. And he seems to like Jared, too. Which is great—Jared needs a job, and this one seems promising.

They’ve talked about Jared, about the fact that he’s in school part-time, his last job, his references. And they’ve talked about the kennels—what kind of dogs they raise and show. But there’s one thing Jared still isn’t clear on.

“Well, I guess I just need to know…what exactly does the job entail? I mean, what would I be doing?” he asks, smiling.

Silence. 

Jensen nods, looking thoughtful, but he doesn’t say anything for so long that Jared starts to feel awkward. He’s staring at Jared, gaze evaluating, like he’s looking for something, and Jared shifts in his seat, beginning to wonder if this interview is about to fall apart like his last 5 had.

Then, all of a sudden, Jensen nods again, and straightens in his seat. “Well, Jared,” he says face serious, “as the ad said, we primarily need a kennel hand to breed the dogs. I think…I think it’s easiest if I just show you.”

Jensen pushes his chair back and stands, and Jared feels a frisson of nerves, although he doesn’t know why. Something about the strange look on Jensen’s face, half wary and half excited, is stringing a thread of tension through the air. 

Then Jensen opens a media cabinet in the corner of his office and slides out a flat screen tv. He picks up a remote. 

“This is our last kennel hand performing his duties. He—” Jensen cuts off, hesitates, and then speaks again. “Well, why don’t you watch first. This is the job I’d be hiring you to do.” The moment drags while Jensen takes a deep breath, eyes still cataloging Jared’s expression. Then he pushes play.

The screen lights up, and at first Jared isn’t sure what he’s seeing. Then it comes into focus, and it’s clearly some sort of training room in the kennel, cement floors and metal gates. The camera sways wildly for a moment, obviously hand-held, and when it steadies, it’s focussed on a blond boy, about Jared’s age, on his knees on a padded mat in the middle of the room.

The first thing Jared notices is that the boy is naked. The second thing he notices is that, barely visible around the shadowy angle of his hips, the boy’s dick is hard.

Jared barely has time to process that bobbing, red cock before an older man with gray at his temples is leading a fucking huge dog into the room. 

The dog is a gorgeous wolfhound with a gleaming coat, and he’s straining at the leash the older guy has him on, wriggling and dancing. Trying to tug his way closer to the naked, prostrate boy. Even before Jared’s conscious mind has time to process the scene before him, his subconscious is zeroing in on the dog’s big, dangling balls, his sheath, where he’s already showing pink, and with a sort of breathless horror, he realizes what Jensen meant by “breeding the dogs”. (“Fuck, fuck, this can’t be—they can’t be actually breeding the dogs with people”, Jared thinks.)

Jared’s stomach flips over violently, and for a second he thinks he feels nauseated, sick. Then the twisty feeling settles lower in his belly, warmth crawling to his balls and coiling. He shifts, and realizes that he's plumping up in his jeans, getting hard.

Still, though, he thinks he must be imagining things. Jared’s just talked himself out of believing it, convinced he’s misunderstanding the situation, when the older guy lets go of the dog’s leash. The wolfhound is on the boy’s back so quickly that Jared doesn’t see him move. The dog thrusts his hips frantically while the boy shimmies underneath, both of them trying to get the dog’s now fully-extended, red dick lined up. 

Now there’s no denying what is going on, what they’re doing…the boy is keening for it, face screwed up. The dog obviously knows the drill, only taking a second to work the boy’s hole onto his cock (“Yeah, take your stud’s cock, bitch,” Jared thinks before he can stop himself). And the older man, he just stands there watching, smiling like a proud papa, before he reaches down to pet the head of first the dog, then the boy.

“We’re going to have him breed you twice today,” the man addresses the boy. “Try and keep him on-knot for at least 30 minutes the first time.”

The boy nods, and the man walks off, leaving the depraved (nasty-hot) scene to play out in the center of the room. 

Jared opens his mouth to swear, maybe, or to shout. To protest, somehow, definitely. Nothing comes out, though. His mouth just hangs open, working around increasingly ragged breaths. 

He’s not sure what’s wrong with him, except his face is hot and his vision seems to be sparking in and out, and what he’s seeing on that screen…the sight of the big wolfhound mounting that boy…it’s like it’s lighting him up all the way down to his belly, a hot trickle of gasoline and a spark.

Jensen isn’t watching the boy and dog on screen, although Jared’s not sure how he can ignore the whimpers and the writhing. Every time Jared tries to look away, his eyes are captured by the slutty shift of the boy’s hips where they’re pinned under the big dog, but Jensen doesn’t seem to notice or care. Instead, Jensen is watching Jared, eyes focused on his face. It makes Jared aware of his shortened breath, of his tongue rasping over his dry lips, of the way his nostrils are flaring. He feels like his arousal is obvious, as if he were the one naked and pleading, on all fours under a dog. The shame of being caught out makes him blush harder, shift his legs closed and tear his eyes away from the screen.

“Is this some kind of fucked up prank?” Jared manages to ask, and his voice comes out gravelly and strained, like he’s the one getting fucked out on that dog dick. 

“It’s not a prank,” Jensen says, and he still sounds just as friendly and normal as he had 5 minutes ago, before the interview got really sick hot weird. He reaches for the remote, and Jared (wants to see more, to see it all, to watch that boy come around that dog cock, to watch that dog jizz his boy bitch’s ass) wants Jensen to stop the dvd, but Jensen doesn’t. He just nudges the volume down a notch or two until the boy’s hitching whines are barely audible.

“Look, Jared,” Jensen says, and his tone is apologetic but the curl at the corner of his mouth is the tiniest bit smug, “I’m sorry to shock you like that. I’ve found that showing job candidates exactly what the job entails like this is the quickest way to determine who might be the best fit. Either I get punched or I don’t, and we go from there.”

Jared wants to punch Jensen right now; wants to punch him right in the face, break his stupid, smug nose. Jensen must read it in Jared’s eyes, because the smirk disappears and he hold his hands up.

“This is fucked up,” Jared growls, and the anger he’d been looking for earlier is heavy in his voice, although it still wavers and cracks when the dog yips from the tv screen. He can’t stop his eyes from trailing back over. The boy is face down on the floor, now, drooling onto his forearm and hanging by his ass off the dog’s cock. Jared’s chest freezes up, momentarily. He can feel that he’s sloppy wet in his briefs.

“I need someone who likes it,” Jensen says. “My dogs need to breed, a lot, and I need someone who wants to get bred…a lot. And I’ve found that this is the best way to identify likely candidates.” Jensen’s voice is softer, now…almost seductive. 

This, Jared realizes, is the sales pitch.

“The hours are flexible. I’ll pay you extremely well. It’s very safe—you’ll never be in danger, and you’ll never get hurt And judging by the way you’re squirming around in your seat, I suspect you’ll get off. A lot.” Jensen trails off.

Jared shakes his head. “No,” he says, voice as firm as he can make it even though he can’t get any air into his lungs. “This is insane. I can’t—I’m not going to—get fucked by dogs. For money.”

“It’s just a job, like any other. And it’s a lot of money. Think about it.” Jensen says, sounding confident. 

“I don’t need to think about it,” Jared says. “It’s not—it’s not the job for me.”

Jensen looks disappointed, but he nods. “Okay,” he says. “Thanks for your time.” He stands up, and Jared does the same, awkwardly trying to hide the bulge in his pants.

“Yeah, thanks.” Jared thinks about offering his hand for a shake, but really he just wants to leave, so he turns and heads for the door.

“Jared, one more thing,” Jensen says. Jared pauses, reluctantly, hand shaking on the door handle and still panting, still worked up and turned on and ready to explode. “If it’s the embarrassment stopping you…the worst of it is right now. Someone knowing that you’re into bestiality…knowing your deep, dark secret. The most humiliating part is over—I already know that you’re going to jerk off as soon as you get home, thinking about this here dvd of Rex breeding Chad," Jensen nods toward the tv, where Rex is panting happily, no longer thrusting but hung up tight and happy in his bitch's hole. 

Jensen continues. "I already know that you’re turned on thinking about being the one on your knees—and I’m not judging you. I’m willing to pay you to do it.” Jensen seats himself back behind his big desk. “Think about that, and call me if you have a change of heart.”

The last thing Jared sees, as he flees the office, is Chad’s dick jumping and spurting all over the concrete floor as the dog dismounts and turns them ass to ass. 

Jensen is wrong about one thing—Jared doesn’t make it home. He shoots off as soon as he’s seated in his car, still in the parking lot in sight of the security guard hut. He shoves one sweaty hand down into his jeans, fingers worming through the heat and damp to tug the rim of his asshole, other hand barely on his cock.

When he does jerk off at home, later that night, he finds himself down on all fours, ass bare and waving in the air. He imagines there’s a dog behind him, waiting to breed, straining at his leash to get at Jared’s hole. Jared reaches back and holds himself open, flashing his hole at the imaginary dog. He strips his cock hard and fast and when he pictures the sudden weight of a big dog jumping up on his back, paws scraping his sides, he comes.


	2. Chapter 2

Jared wakes up the morning after his interview with Jensen Ackles to dried cum in his carpet where he shot his load on the floor the night before. He feels sick when he looks at it, all the evidence of his perversity, the lube uncapped on the table, his crusty briefs. Has a mental flash of what he must have looked like, alone on his hands and knees, begging an imaginary dog to mount him. The thought makes his eyes water and his face flush with shame, and he doesn’t bother making breakfast. His stomach is too knotted with self-loathing to eat.

He cleans, instead. Scrubs the carpet, tosses the lube. Washes the jeans he creamed in the parking lot and his sheets, and then takes the hottest shower he can stand. Doesn’t think about how his ass isn’t sore, not like it would be after getting knotted. Doesn’t think about how his sides aren’t scratched from dog paws holding him in place for a breeding. Doesn’t let himself want.

When his apartment is clean, Jared promises himself that he’s not going to think about it again. None of it—not the job, not…bestiality in general. He’s certainly not going to jerk off picturing it. Never again.

The resolve makes him feel better, and he dresses himself and goes grocery shopping. While he’s out, he even picks up the paper to check the help wanted’s for any new, promising openings. He still needs a job, after all...since he certainly won’t be breeding Ackles’s dogs. (Breeding *with* them, getting bred, getting FUCKED, his brain whispers, before he shuts it down, stomping those thoughts as hard as he can.)

He goes to his Economics class, and then to his Economics lab, and he puts the arousal and the shock and the shameful desire out of his head and manages to keep them there until he’s walking back to his car.

In the middle of the quad, a group of frat boys are playing frisbee, and with them, running around the middle of the field, is a gorgeous brindle boxer. Before he can help it, Jared’s eyes are drawn to the underside of the dog’s stomach.

The boxer isn’t fixed—his balls are heavy, swinging between his legs as he chases the frisbee. His sheath is fat and lightly furred below his pink belly, and Jared catches himself wondering how big the cock is on a dog like that. What it looks like, up close and personal. 

He stares some more as one of the guys bends down to roughhouse with the boxer, and he’s blindsided by a sudden, shockingly clear image of what that dog would look like fucking a guy. Humping away, brown, furry hips pressed tight against a man’s ass. Soft balls bouncing against the human balls below as the boxer worked his knot into his human bitch. Nails scrabbling against ribs, snout open and panting, tongue dangling over his human bitch’s shoulder blades.

Jared realizes he’s standing in front of the Business building, breath shaky and cock pressing into his zipper so hard he can feel individual teeth. He slides his messenger bag around to the front of his body and all but runs to his car. 

This time, he doesn’t let himself jerk off, still clinging to his determination to forget all about…dogs.

Three hours later, though, he’s about ready to scream. He’s been unbearably horny ever since he saw that boxer. He’s tried everything, even jerking off to lesbian porn on-line, but nothing is working. His mind keeps trying to fight it’s way back to Ackles Kennels, to Chad and the wolfhound and how nasty they had looked—man and beast, tied together by pure animal sexual gratification. The woflhound, driven by a basic desire to mate with any willing creature, and Chad…so, so willing to serve as a breeding receptacle for the huge dog.

Finally, Jared gives up. He promised himself that he wouldn’t think about dogs fucking people, and he intends to keep that promise. Still, he can’t help but remember the boxer, and his curiosity to know what it’s hard dick looks like is still strong. 

He goes to youtube and types in “mating dogs”.

There are over 1,000 results, and Jared pages through them as his cock fills. He clicks on some, but most of them don’t show anything…the camera is too far away, or the dogs are already fucking when the footage starts, and you never get to see the male’s cock.

Finally, he finds a video of a man holding a chihuahua up in the air by the scruff of the neck. The dog is hard, knot out and dick bobbing in the air, while a woman and the man laugh. It’s exactly what Jared wants—he can see everything.

The little chihuahua has a huge dick, compared to its body—massive and obscene, sticking up from between his back legs. At first he thinks it’s bright red, but, no—when he squints, he can see that it’s pale, pale pink and spidered with deep red veins, making it look flushed. Jared finds his eyes stuck on the veins. There’s something about seeing them, knowing that you’re looking at blood, throbbing hot, right under thin cock skin, that makes him—yeah. 

Jared swallows against a dry throat, and he can feel the blood racing heavy and hot in his own groin. The dog is hunching it’s hips, unashamed, and its cock is bobbing in the air. It’s driven totally by animal instinct—he’s just a tiny dog, but he’s serious about fucking, driven by the desire to find a willing hole, work his engorged cock inside it, master it. The dog wants to find someone to breed. Someone to make his bitch.

And Jesus Christ, he’s getting turned on by a chihuahua, Jared thinks. The thought is shameful enough and sobering enough that he’s about to close youtube, but then the dog gives a low, sharp whine, and starts shooting. The guy holding the dog shrieks about how he’s jizzing all over the carpet, and the camera jerks as the cameraman laughs. Jared’s eyes are glued to the dog’s dick. 

For one thing, he can see it throbbing, pointed head flaring and relaxing as it works around streams of thin dog cum. For another thing, it’s shooting in pulses, but they’re weak and slow, rhythmic swells of shiny, whitish liquid pumping out of the tiny hole and sliding over the relatively huge, pink cock. And finally, the dog’s cock is bouncing around like crazy as it shoots, and something about the way it throbs and sways, so alive and so primal…Jared is man enough to admit that he finds it hot as hell. 

He can’t help but think about what it would feel like: a big, thick cock, with that round knot at the base, locked inside his ass. Shooting him full of hot dog cum in long, slow pulses. Jerking inside his ass, mastering him.

Shit. 

Jared can’t help it; when the video ends, he jogs it back to when the dog starts cumming, watching the whole thing again. Big shiny dog dick, bouncing everywhere. He imagines an even bigger dick, on an even bigger dog. A dog big enough that, if it got a whiff of a willing hole (of Jared’s hole) and it wanted to master that hole, it could take it. A dog like the big wolfhound he’d seen at Jensen’s kennel—with it’s furry balls hanging proudly between it’s legs, just below that fucking huge sheath. That dog could knock a guy over, climb on, and hunch it’s cock right into his hole…probably even a big guy like Jared. Even if Jared didn’t want it, even if he wasn’t sure. Work him on that cock, open him up…fucking convince him to be it’s breeding bitch. Breed him.

He tries to picture the wolfhound’s cock…imagine how big it would feel, sliding over his tailbone as the dog tried to stick it in. Excited, hot with blood. Pulsing long and slow and hard. Jerking in his ass. 

Jared imagines himself on all fours, hanging off the wolfhound’s knot while its cock dances around inside him, and his whole body shudders. Being stuck on that dogdick, being dragged ass first by a huge dog while he’s pumped full of cum, being…

Being bred, Jared thinks. Being bred by big dogs, being their breeding bitch by trade. God, the idea shouldn’t be making him hotter, but it is. Echoing around in his brain, everything he’s been fantasizing since he left his interview yesterday, flush with the allure of the forbidden, of the nasty, of the secretly desired. 

Jared Padalecki, professional dog bitch, he thinks. Professional hole for dogs to fuck. Professional dog cockwarmer and cumdump. He presses a palm hard over his zipper, and with a muffled whimper, he creams his jeans in four hard, sweet pulses, ass clamping crazily around nothing.

When he wakes up the next morning, it’s to another pair of crusty briefs and more come stains that need to be cleaned up. This time, when he’s done cleaning, instead of freaking out, Jared calls Jensen.


	3. Chapter 3

Jared’s next visit to Ackles Kennels is on Friday evening, after the streetlights have turned on. 

When he’d called Jensen on Wednesday morning, after 42 hours of trying to ignore the sick and thrilling ache in his belly, Jared had wanted to meet again as soon as possible. He’d had this itch driving him forward, breathless and terrified, pushing him to commit now, fast. Before he lost his nerve.

Jensen, however, had insisted on waiting. “Come by on Friday,” he’d said. “Take the time to think about it some more.”

Jared didn’t know how to explain that thinking about it was both the last thing he wanted to do and the only thing he had been capable of for the past two days.

“Besides,” Jensen continued, “if we can make it after 5 on Friday, we’ll have some privacy. And, if you’re still serious then, it might be a good idea for you to meet one of the dogs. Think of it as…a second interview.”

Jared had been incapable of answering for a moment, breath driven right out of his lungs.

“You understand what I’m suggesting here, don’t you Jared?” Jensen said into the silence. “I think we should find out if being bred is something you enjoy. I’ll pay you for your time, of course, if it doesn’t work out.”

When he’d hung up the phone, Jared ached from getting so hard so fast. He felt too lightheaded to stand, and his fingers were trembling so badly that he fumbled trying undo his zipper. He ended up just gasping breathlessly in his chair, desperate and still high on the thrill of agreeing to a fucking test breeding, pushing down on his cock through the denim.

When he gets to kennel on Friday, Jensen comes down to unlock the front door and let Jared in. They’re the only people there; the sounds of the dogs barking and moving in their kennels echo through the dark hallways.

“I’m glad you called, Jared,” Jensen says, shaking his hand. “Really glad you called, and glad you agreed to come by again.”

Jensen steers them upstairs toward the offices, making small talk the whole way. Mostly, Jared tries to keep a grip on himself, keep his voice from breaking with nerves, and drag his focus off of a sudden awareness of his asshole and cock enough to answer Jensen without sounding like a gibbering moron.

When they get to Jensen’s office, Jensen pauses them outside the door. “Before we go in and meet Harley, do you have any questions?” he asks.

Jared’s eyes are drawn to the little, frosted window in the door, and he catches himself trying to get a glimpse of the dog on the other side.

“Jared?” Jensen raps in a sharper voice, looking amused rather than annoyed. “I can tell that you’re not going to be thinking with your big brain once I open this door, so this your last chance for questions before before we try breeding you.”

Jared forces himself to focus on Jensen and tries to clear the haze of arousal from his head, even though his dick jerked at Jensen’s words. They’d discussed pay and benefits in more depth on the phone, so he can't think of anything to ask. 

And, all of a sudden, he needs a question, or two, or twelve. All of a sudden, he's terrified of what he's doing here, of what's on the other side of that door. Of how hard his dick is, and how out-of-control he feels.

“Yeah, uh…" Jared starts, then pauses, trying to think of something to ask. "Why do you use a human?” he finally finishes, proud that he came up with a legitimate question and bought himself some time. “I mean, wouldn’t a female dog would be…easier?”

Jensen nods. “In some ways. But breeding a human bitch is good for the dogs psychologically and behaviorally. Just like any guy, the studs are always in a better mood, happier, after an especially great orgasm. And research has found that mating a human bitch is more pleasurable for male dogs.” Jensen crosses his arms and leans against the door, getting into his impromptu lecture. Jared surreptitiously wipes his sweaty palms on his thighs and tries to keep his shit together.

“For one thing, human bitches will take it as often as the stud wants to copulate—a female dog, even in heat, will only put up with so much before she’ll chase a stud off. More importantly, though, a male dog loves being knotted for a good long time—it’s a biological imperative for them to keep their semen soaking in their bitch’s cunt for as long as possible—and human bitches are more patient with being on-knot. A person can just keep their ass tight around the stud’s knot for as long as possible, let him enjoy feeling how he’s got you stuffed and hung up on his dick. It makes him happy.”

Jared can’t believe the stuff that’s coming out Ackles’ mouth, but the man has a totally straight face and his tone is serious, almost pensive, as he continues.

“Also, you should know that if you get the job, we’ll expect you to be completely submissive to the studs, letting them have total access to your body whenever you’re with them, even if it isn’t a scheduled breeding time. They decide when they fuck you, they decide where and how; you are there to service them, and they know it. 

“That’s one of the psychological benefits of breeding them with humans. That knowledge of their complete dominance over one human, that they own your hole and it exists only for them to fuck, knot, and fertilize whenever they want—that gives them an extra confidence in the show ring.” 

Jensen’s face cracks into a sudden, endearing grin. “Or at least that’s what my trainer, Jeff, says. He’s big into what they call Human Cunt Behavioral Training, or HCBT. If you get the job, you’ll notice that he’s strict about enforcing that you’re totally submissive to the studs so that they know they own your asshole. Myself—well, I’m not sure I believe all that psychological stuff.” He chuckles, then shrugs. “But to be honest, I find I get way more for my money with a human bitch—especially one who enjoys the job.”

Jared knows he’s blushing, but the smile on Jensen’s face doesn’t seem condescending, just genuinely pleased.

“Any other questions?” Jensen asks. 

Jared thinks about it, but his nerves have steadied and, honestly, if he stalls any more, he's probably going to bolt. And he's ashamed to admit it, but even though he feels like he's going to puke from nerves...he wants this. Is burning for it. So he shakes his head.

“No? Well, then, it’s time to meet Harley, if you’re ready.”

Jared crosses his arms, then uncrosses them, then slides his hands into his pockets. He clears his throat. “Ye—yeah. I’m ready.” He tries a smile, and even though he knows it’s probably more of a grimace, Jensen smiles back, eyes understanding. 

“Okay. For your first breeding, I’ve got Harley in here,” he says. “Harley’s our mastiff stud. If you take the job, he’ll be breeding you a lot; he’s a horny fucker, but very friendly. We do have some studs who can be…problematic. Aggressive. They tend to get rough with a bitch—part of the reason I only hire strong, physically fit guys for this job.” 

Jensen must see the alarm growing on Jared’s face, because he raises his hands and backtracks a bit. “You won’t be bred by any of the tougher studs until you’ve been here a while—not until you feel totally comfortable, and only with instructions and assistance from Jeff, my trainer.” He pauses, then adds, “You won’t ever be expected to do anything you aren’t comfortable with here. And we’ll always ensure your safety, both on- and off-knot. Okay?”

Jared thinks for a moment. “As long as you know I might say no, even when the time comes. If I don’t feel ready, or…safe.”

Jensen is nodding before he even finishes, turning towards the office again. “Of course. For now, let’s just focus on introducing you to Harley—who is a lamb, by the way. Sweetest stud we’ve got. That is, if you’re still up for it?” Jensen casts a look back at Jared, who gives a tentative nod.

“Great!” Jensen pauses again, and tilts his head, eyes trailing over Jared’s body. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna have you get naked now. Harley’s not used to seeing his bitches with their clothes on…it might confuse him. Usually, they’re naked and bent over a breeding table, ready to take his seed.”

Jared can feel himself blushing all the way down past his collar, but he starts taking off his clothes, folding them and clutching the pile in front of himself. Jensen keeps his eyes averted, which Jared appreciates. It might be silly, since this man is about to watch him (take a dog dick)—since Jensen is going to help him get (good and fucked by a Mastiff)—his brain shies away from even thinking it, although the images flash bright and quick across his mind.

He hesitates before removing his boxer briefs, blushing because he’s half-hard and not even nerves and embarrassment are deflating his dick. Still, Jensen doesn’t even glance at Jared’s exposed cock, just turns the handle and cracks the door. He blocks it with his right leg, saying, “He might be all over you, so be prepared. He’s harmless, but he is big, and he might come at you…enthusiastically. Real curious—especially once he sees that you’re naked…like I said, he knows what that means. You ready?”

“Yeah,” Jared manages. “I’m ready.” He takes a steadying breath, willing his stomach to stop turning.

“When we walk into the room, take a few steps in, then stop and stand still,” Jensen advises. “The best thing you can do is let him get to know you at his own pace.” Jensen opens the door the rest of the way, and Jared follows him into the room.

When the door opens, Harley is lying on a fleece dog bed in the corner. He glances up, taking in Jensen with a bored gaze, but when he sees Jared, he perks right up.

He’s on his feet in an instant, a huge brick wall of a dog with a gorgeous, shiny coat and a head the size of a basketball. He comes bounding over to Jared, eyes on Jared’s bare cock, which has finally softened from nerves. 

For a moment, the dog is coming so quickly that Jared worries he’s going to be knocked over and scratched up, but at the last second, Harley puts on the brakes, coming to a halt with his nose 6 inches from Jared’s crotch.

“Remember, just stand still,” Jensen says. “And say hi.” He’s watching from the side of the room, and Jared thinks his voice sounds a bit breathless as he stares at where his stud is nosing Jared’s cock, but he can’t be sure.

Jared reaches for Harley’s head and scratches behind one big ear. The dog’s fur is short and soft with a nap like velvet under Jared’s fingers. Jared rubs his fingers back and forth over it and thinks, this is your new lover.

His cock starts to plump.

Harley notices, of course—he can probably smell it, the changes in Jared’s chemistry as his body responds to the big, handsome mastiff’s proximity to his naked dick. Harley can probably smell the sweat breaking out under Jared’s arms and across his lip, too. Maybe he knew as soon as he got a sniff of Jared that Jared would be receptive to his cock, receptive to a breeding…Jared’s skin prickles at the thought. 

The movement of his fingers on the dog’s head become less of a scratch and more of a caress.

After another minute of curious staring, Harley starts sniffing at Jared’s exposed crotch. He moves in closer, until Jared can feel gusts of dog breath on his cock, which plumps the rest of the way until it’s bobbing in front of Harley’s snout.

It’s the first time Jared has ever had a dog this close to his naked body, interested in his dick. His palms are sweating and he’s shaking, looking down at this dog, this stud who is about to (“breed me, fuck me, use my hole,” Jared thinks, riding a delicious shudder of twisted pleasure) mate with him. His cock is heavy, now, twitching towards the big dog like it knows what it wants.

For a long moment, they just stand there: Jensen watching with hot eyes from the corner; Jared, cock bobbing and starting to spill wet from the tip; and Harley, scenting his new bitch.

Then Harley pushes forward. His nose is cold, but Jared barely has time to startle before the dog’s hot tongue is flashing out to swipe over Jared’s dick. It feels amazing, huge and hot and just the slightest bit rough, but it’s the realization, the thought (a dog is licking my cockhead) that makes Jared’s cock pulse out a tiny eruption of slick—which Harley immediately laps up, tongue scraping the slit for more.

Jared thinks he could come from this, he's so worked up after all of Jensen's talk and then his first sexual contact with a stud. Just two more sloppy wet licks, and he'd be shooting off. He doesn’t get the chance, though. Harley’s tongue heads further south, until he’s slicking Jared’s balls, then down behind them, before Harley whines in frustration, yips, and backs away.

Jared isn’t sure whether he’s relieved that it’s over or sorry. Before he can decide, Harley skitters around behind him, then Jared feels a long dog tongue swipe over one ass cheek before that nose is back, pushing up into his crack.

Jared can’t help flinching, more surprise than fear, but still it’s enough to startle Harley.

“Stand still,” Jensen reminds him, voice sharp. 

Jared freezes. After a moment, Harley presses back between Jared’s asscheeks, slowly turning his head back and forth, trying to work his snout deeper. Jared can both hear and feel him sniffing again, catching the scent of Jared’s hole. Then Harley’s tongue comes out, catching Jared’s balls before sluicing up until it’s playing over Jared’s pucker. Jared’s body tightens in surprise, and he can feel the muscles of his hole clenching against the dog’s tongue before his whole body shudders and relaxes. Harley keeps licking, like he’s trying to coax that tight hole open.

It feels amazing, and Jared's aware that he's starting to make slutty little motions back into the dog's tongue.

Jared glances at Jensen, who’s smiling at him faintly, almost a smirk. He has a knowing look in his eyes, and it makes Jared feel self-conscious, but he can’t bring himself to push Harley away. Instead, he starts rocking his hips back harder, grinding onto Harley's tongue as best he can.

Harley is whining again, pushing harder still, like he wants to get deeper into Jared’s ass, like he wants better access, and so Jared starts to bend forward to bare his asshole.

“Wait!” Jensen barks, and Jared freezes. “When you bend over, he’s going to take that as total sexual submission and think it’s time to breed you.” As he talks, Jensen is moving, pulling a large, cushioned footstool out from behind his desk. “And if he mounts you while you’re only bent at the waist,” he continues, “you won’t be able to take his weight. You could get hurt.”

Looking back at the massive dog, Jared doesn’t doubt that Jensen is right. He eyes the cushion, licks his lips, then asks, “How should I do this?” His voice cracks, dry like the desert and fucked out, and Jared can’t help blushing. 

“Just get on your knees and bend over this,” Jensen indicates the footstool.

Jared shuffles forward slowly, Harley still slicking his tongue over Jared’s hole. When he reaches the cushion, he kneels, which finally dislodges Harley’s snout. 

He takes a shaky breath, because this is it—he’s about to expose his asshole, bare it, get in position so that a dog can mount and breed him. The thought is both thrilling and sickening, and for a moment Jared feels lightheaded, actually thinks he might faint.

Then Harley’s tongue swipes over the back of his shoulder blade, a gentle reminder, and Jared knows that he needs to do this. At least once, he tells himself. At least this once, and then maybe he won’t take the job, but he needs to know—what it’s like to be bred. Or he’s never going to be able to move on, or forget it (never jerk off thinking about anything else). He doesn't have to take the job, but he has to get fucked by a dog--by this dog. Right now.

Doubts allayed for the moment, Jared leans forward, tentatively, until he’s on his hands and knees over the stool. His arms are still on the floor, and his head is hanging down over the front edge of the stool, but his chest is totally supported.

The position, knowing that he’s on his hands and knees, bare, in front of a horny male dog, makes Jared’s cock throb even more.

He’s expecting the immediate shock of Harley’s weight on his back, but instead he feels the dog’s tongue again. In this position, Harley can catch Jared’s wet cockhead, his balls, and his hole all in one wet swipe. Jared adjusts himself on the stool and settles in to enjoy it, feeling goosebumps break out across his thighs.

Then Harley jumps up.

He scrabbles over Jared’s back, hot cock poking Jared’s asscheeks as he tries to line himself up. 

“Just relax,” Jensen breathes. “Drop your hips a bit.”

Jared takes a deep breath and follows instructions. He feels Harley’s cock find the target, glancing off his pucker.

Then Harley finally slides in, and at first it’s just one more punch of sensation, a slick, hot stretch in his ass on top of the drag of nails over his ribs and the brush of fur on his tailbone. The dog doesn’t pause, though, just starts humping immediately, and by the fifth jerky thrust the pleasure in Jared’s hole has pushed everything else out of his mind. Every feeling that isn’t the growing, sweet ache where Harley’s cock is breeding him disappears.

Jared can feel his skin tingling, his hair standing on end, as the friction deep inside creates hot waves that wash over him until he’s gritting his teeth against it, eyes watering and head thrown back. 

He doesn’t have the energy to scream, but he can feel the air being punched out of him by Harley’s hips, hear himself warbling in a low, wailing moan as he rides the dog’s jackhammer thrusts. 

Jensen smiles down into Jared’s face, seeming to understand that Jared’s grimace is one of pleasure. “Take it,” Jensen says, eyelids heavy. “That’s good—go on, take it. Look at you, pushing back into it. Ride my dog’s big cock.”

Jared nods, doesn’t know what he’s agreeing with, just responds to the pleased, crooning tone of Jensen’s voice, his head bouncing from the dog’s frantic thrusts. His dick is hard again, slapping against his belly as Harley pounds him, but Jared can barely tear his focus away from the hot spear of dogcock working inside him to spare it a thought.

“You’re a natural,” Jensen breathes, still smiling. “Knew you would be—knew you’d love being bred by dogcock.”

Harley’s cock is swelling; Jared can feel it pushing on the rim of his asshole as the mastiff tries to lock his big, spewing cock into his bitch’s hole. Cunt, he thinks, and the word echoes around his head, making him push his hungry hole (his hungry *cunt*) back harder. 

He’s trying to hold off, doesn’t want to come until he has that big knot inside to squeeze down on, but it’s getting difficult. His balls are drawn up so tight, and his cock is leaking happily, red and slick and almost painful against his belly. The tremors are starting deep inside him, where Harley’s cock is rubbing so fucking good.

On the next thrust, Jared bucks back hard, pushing himself on to Harley’s knot, feeling sick and desperate and slutty, but needing it inside his hole, until it finally pops through the tight ring of his ass. The sharp pain forces a shout out of him, but then Jensen is there, petting his hair back, soothing him.

“He’s gonna come in you now,” Jensen says, and at the same time, Jared can feel Harley start to shoot. Now that he’s full of dog knot, the pain has passed and Jared feels amazing...feels like he's where he's meant to be, under this dog, pleasuring his stud. His only purpose right now is to hold that big, red cock inside his ass and accept it's come. 

“Just take it,” Jensen continues murmuring, echoing Jared's own thoughts. “Let him fertilize your hole…love the way you bent right over for him, so ready to take his cock. Such a natural dog bitch.”

The words, the way Jensen is praising him for submitting to a dog-fucking, combined with the heat of Harley’s come splashing deep in Jared’s belly—it’s more than Jared can take. Then Harley jerks his hips and his knot presses hard on Jared's prostate, and Jared shouts.

His balls contract hard, making his cock leap as he comes. He yelps and whines like a real bitch, and Jensen keeps talking, keeps praising him, until Jared’s done shooting on the office floor. He's shaking and leaking tears and sweat, wrung out and in heaven, balls aching from coming so hard.

He might pass out for a moment—he definitely drifts. When Jared opens his eyes, Harley is still heavy on his back, and Jensen is doing paperwork at his desk.

“Jesus,” Jared says, voice husky. It barely comes out, and he has to swallow and try again. “Jesus. That was…” he trails off, flushing as Jensen looks up and meets his eyes.

“You did great,” Jensen says softly. “The job is yours, if you want it.”

Jared thinks about that, and tries to shift. Harley growls, and he freezes. He can feel come running out of his ass around Harley’s knot, and his hands and knees are scraped from the carpet. He’s sticky, and he knows he’s going to be sore tomorrow.

He licks his lips again, tries to moisten his dry mouth. “Yeah,” he says, voice scratched but certain. “Yeah, I want the job.”

“Great,” Jensen smiles, big and happy. “Now let’s see how long you can keep Harley’s knot inside you. Why don't you try for 20 more minutes?”


	4. Chapter 4

When Jared shows up for his first full day of work at Ackles Kennels, his…interview…with Harley already feels like a dream.

Jensen meets him in the lobby again, and Jared blushes remembering how he must have looked when he finally slid off Harley’s knot and dragged his sore body out of Jensen’s office the other night. Jensen is totally professional, though, face open and friendly. He doesn’t say a word about any of it (the way he watched you squirm on his dog’s cock, Jared thinks to himself, ashamed, the way he saw you shoot off like a teenager as soon as you felt his dog jizzing deep in your hole). Jensen just shakes Jared’s hand and leads him back to the break room.

“For starters, we’ve got some paperwork for you to fill out. W-4’s and insurance stuff. Oh, and I’ll give you a tour of the facilities.” 

Jared nods.

“So why don’t you go ahead and strip off,” Jensen says, walking over to a row of lockers and sliding a master lock onto one door, “and we’ll get started. This locker’s yours; you can put your clothes here.”

Jared freezes, and he can feel his brow crinkle with concern. “You want me to…” he trails off, then gestures at his clothes, when Jensen gives him a confused glance.

“Strip. Yeah. Look, Jared—” Jensen seems sympathetic, but his tone is firm. “You’re going to be naked all the time here. 8 hours a day nude, most of that time not just naked, but with your asshole up in the air. Sometimes there will be a dog dick inside you, and some of that time, you’ll just be bent over the breeding bench waiting in case one of the studs decides he’s horny. The rest of the staff—trainers, groomers—they’re gonna be in and out. Jeff will probably even want to work with the yearling studs while they’re breeding you to ensure that they’re not aggressive. Not to mention, the dogs will be in your space constantly—and naked, curious, friendly dogs near your dick can be overwhelming. Even when they’re *not* horny.”

Jensen pauses, and Jared’s mind is boggling.

“You need to get comfortable naked, and you need to do it fast.” Jensen finishes. “So—” he gestures at Jared’s clothes again.

Slowly, Jared obeys, pulling off his shirt, then dropping his pants. Jensen doesn’t look away, his gaze steady on Jared’s crotch, and finally Jared slides his underwear off. He folds his clothes and places them in the locker, and then turns to follow Jensen.

They head out of the break room and into a cinderblock hallway with a concrete floor. It reminds Jared of the inside of a Humane Society, only nicer—the sounds and smells are the same, but the equipment is obviously top of the line.

The air is cold, and Jared can’t help but be exceedingly aware of his nudity. Every distant bark makes him start, as though he expects the dog to appear suddenly next to him and attack his defenseless cock or ass. (Who are you kidding—you’re going to have to fight not to bend over and hold yourself open for the first dog you see, the voice in his head whispers, god, your cunt wants to get bred again. His asshole twitches in response to that thought.)

Jensen stops in front of a heavy metal door, and then turns to Jared. 

“First, I’ll show you your work space.”

They head through the door and into a large, open room at the center of the kennel. “Chris isn't here today—you’ll meet him tomorrow,” Jensen says. “He’s just general kennel help—feeds the dogs and cleans up. But he’ll be helping you with lube every morning, and cleaning you up.”

“I can probably manage my own lube,” Jared says, embarrassed by the thought of some janitor slicking up his ass, but Jensen shakes his head.

“We need to have him do it. Insurance purposes. Got to make sure you’re properly prepared.”

They turn a corner and stop in front of a big, heavily padded black bench.

“This is your breeding bench,” Jensen says. “Every day, once you punch in you’ll go to locker to strip. Then you’ll come find me and check in, make sure I don’t have anything special I need from you that day. Usually, I’ll be in my office or in the night kennels with the dogs.

“Next, you’ll page Chris over the loudspeaker and let him know that you’re ready to be lubed up. He’ll meet you here, because this—” Jensen pats the top of the bench, “is where you’ll spend a good deal of your time. Pretty much every morning, until lunch time, you’ll have play room duty in here.” 

He indicates a ledge near the front of the bench that looks adjustable.

“This is the chin rest, if you want a place to rest your head—it swings away, and some people prefer not to use it. And your chest and hips get supported by this,” he nudges at the most substantial part of the bench. “The bench is designed to support you so that you can move around some, get comfortable and switch positions, and at all times, your hole has maximum exposure. So, you’ll get yourself settled, and then we’ll start bringing in the studs. Each stud gets about an hour in the play room, and not all of them will want to fuck you every time they’re in here. You’re just one of a variety of forms of entertainment on offer.” 

Jensen gestures at the toys and bones in the corner, and at the wading pool full of water.

“With most of the dogs, you can play fetch, or splash around in the pool, and then if they show interest that morning, let them breed you. 

“With other studs, getting them bred is more of a priority and we’re gonna need you to just stay here, exposed and waiting for them. Mostly, this will be for behavioral reasons. Like if a stud is getting too aggressive and we need his balls emptied in hopes it will calm him down. Sometimes, it might be if we have an event coming up—like a show, or some of the dogs do therapy work at nursing homes or schools—and we want to make sure they don’t start to show pink in public. Again, we’ll just want you to drain their balls before they go….and we might need you to take their knot a couple times in a row, in order to get them good and worn out, depending on the dog. Don’t worry, Jeff and I keep an eye on what each dog needs, and we’ll let you know what we expect from you.”

Jensen pauses and looks around. “I can’t think of what else I need to tell you about this room.” He meets Jared’s eyes. “How does this sound, so far?”

Jared feels more than a little dazed, but he rallies. “It sounds...okay. To be honest, it’s all a bit overwhelming.”

Nodding, Jensen says, “Yeah, I probably shouldn’t be dumping so much information on you on your first day. I want to be upfront, so you know what you’re getting in to. I’ve learned that this isn’t the type of job where people like…surprises. But it’s not that different from any other job, really—it takes a while to get used to the procedures and expectations. I’ll bet on your first day at Applebee’s, it seemed like there were a lot of details and rules to remember?”

Jared nods, because it’s true, even though the comparison between his last job waiting tables and this job seems…unequal (at Applebee’s, I wasn’t hired as a glorified sex toy for dogs to fuck over and over). Still, the persistent tingle in his balls and the way his breath shortens with anticipation every time Jensen mentions the dogs keeps Jared’s mouth shut.

Jensen continues. “Someone will be working with you, making sure you’re comfortable and informed, every step of the way. At least until you get settled in—which I hope you will.” 

When Jared doesn’t reply immediately, Jensen looks unsure. His gaze searches Jared’s face. After a moment, he continues on tentatively. “To be honest, Jared, I really hope that you’re going to do well here—fit in and all that—and stay with us for a while. Maybe I shouldn’t say this, because I don’t want to embarrass you, but…after I saw the way Harley bred you the other night…well, not everyone is as much of a natural as you are. I mean…you took his cock beautifully. And it seemed like you…enjoyed yourself.”

Jared laughs. He’s blushing, but Jensen is being so earnest that he feels he owes him honesty in return. “I loved it,” he blurts, tucking his hair behind his ear nervously.

“Yeah,” Jensen breathes, catching Jared’s eyes again, gaze weirdly intense. “Which is why I hope this works out.”

They stand still for a moment, just looking at each other. Then Jensen breaks the spell.

“I really do think that’s all in here for now,” he says. “Except—oh! You can turn the TV on.” He gestures to a set about 5 feet in front of the bench. “I know it’s hard to believe at first, but parts of the job will become routine. And even when you’re into it, even when you get off, you can be on-knot for up to 40 minutes. You might want something to focus on.” He chuckles, and starts moving towards one of the doors off to the side. “Now why don’t I introduce you to Jeff.”

Jeff, Jared remembers, is Jensen’s head dog trainer. As they walk towards his office, Jensen briefs Jared on what to expect.

"I'm really lucky to have Jeff working with me--he's an amazing trainer. He's got this way of making dogs listen--I mean even dogs that are totally out of control--they just obey him."

They're moving at a brisk pace down a long hallway with windows that look into large kennels. Jared matches Jensen's stride, and he's trying to focus on Jensen's words, but his attention is captured by the dogs he can see lounging about in their enclosures. About halfway down the hall, they pass a large mastiff mix, slightly smaller than Harley, laying on a dog bed and lazily licking his sheath. Jared's gut clenches at the tip of pink dogcock starting to poke out under the dog's slow tonguing.

He snaps his eyes away before his cock can respond.

"So, look," Jensen is saying, "what I'm trying to say is that Jeff is a great trainer because he's bossy. Don't--don't let him scare you, he's a nice guy and he's great to work with. But he can come across as a bit of a hardass...especially with new employees."

"I can probably deal with that," Jared says. After all, he's had some real asshole bosses in the past...and Jeff's not even his boss, really; Jensen is. And Jensen, well--Jared meets Jensen's concerned gaze, and his somewhat goofy, hopeful smile. Jensen seems like an amazing boss.

Jared is embarrassed when they walk into Jeff’s office to find Jeff behind his desk, on the phone and fully dressed—wearing a tie, even. He’s never met a coworker totally naked before, especially not one who looks old enough to be his dad.

They stop just inside the door, and Jeff holds up one finger to indicate that he’ll be done with his call in a moment. Jensen nods.

Jared takes the time to look around the office. There are framed plaques on the walls along with awards and ribbons. Apparently Jeff really is a top notch trainer.

In the corner, there’s a bookshelf with a few framed photos of dogs, all sporting big, blue ribbons. It looks like the center photo was taken backstage at a show, maybe in a prep room. In it, Jeff is standing next to Jensen, leaning on a grooming table and drinking a beer while Jensen holds up a blue ribbon. There are grooming supplies all around the two men. The dog, presumably the winning dog, is off to the side, mounted on the back of a young, blond man. The dog’s mouth is open, tongue out, in a parody of a smile The blond man’s face is bright red, eyes squeezed shut in concentration, mouth open. You can just see the slightest bit of the dog’s red cock between the dog’s hips and the boy’s ass, and Jared can imagine that he’s fucking the shit out of that boy while the kennel owner and trainer nonchalantly celebrate their win and watch.

Jared feels his cock twitch. When he looks up, Jeff is watching him examine the photo, smirking. There’s an edge of hardness in his smile that Jared isn’t sure he likes.

“That’ll be one of your duties,” Jensen says. “Coming along to shows to provide relief to the dogs between rounds.”

Jared nods, the slightly stunned feeling returning, and Jeff hangs up the phone.

As Jensen introduces them, Jared tries not to fidget or cover his exposed, slightly plump dick.

“As I said, you’ll probably be working a lot with Jeff,” Jensen says. “But I’ll let him tell you about that.”

“Mostly, you and I will work with our younger studs,” Jeff jumps in. “Their first few matings. They need to learn to be handled, even when they’re tied to a bitch. Mostly, I’ll be touching them, getting their attention and keeping it. Maybe have them do some simple obedience while you’re on-knot. Come, fetch. That sort of thing. You won’t have to do anything besides go along for the ride—just kneel there quietly while I work with them and stay on-knot if they walk around.” He looks Jared over again, clinically. “Some of our bitches even like being dragged around by the ass,” he adds. “It tugs the knot around inside their cunt.” 

Jeff is interrupted by the PA system blaring; someone is requesting Jensen’s presence in the front office.

“Well, this is as good a time as any for the two of you to get to know each other,” Jensen says. “Jeff, why don’t you tell Jared more about the work you two will be doing together. And go easy on him," he gives Jeff a mock stern glare. "We don't want to scare him off--I think Jared's a real find." 

Jensen turns to Jared. “You and I can meet back up after lunch and I’ll finish the tour from there.”

Jensen leaves the room, and Jared stands there, fighting with the heat flushing his face. He doesn’t want to blush, but Jeff keeps his eyes fixed on Jared’s naked body as he rises from behind his desk and slowly heads in Jared’s direction.

He slides his gaze over Jared’s shoulders and down to his thighs, and Jared can almost feel that look crawl over his skin. There’s something unpleasant, almost predatory, about it, even though Jeff is still smiling. It makes Jared’s skin prickle.

“Well,” Jeff says, clapping his hands lightly. “Jared. Jensen said he explained to you about the Human Cunt Behavioral Training method?” 

Jared clears his throat nervously. “He did.”

“Good. Then first things first. I’ll need to see your cunt.”

“I…” Jared fumbles. He’s been expecting, bracing himself, for overly familiar relationships with is coworkers, but still the blunt words and the implicit order are not what he expected. “My what?” he finally manages, sounding stunned.

Jeff takes in Jared’s discomfort, and Jared thinks he might be fighting off a smirk, even though his placid smile stays firmly in place. “Your hole. The one Harley bred the other evening. I understand he was tied with you for a good long time, too.”

Jared feels his cheeks prickle with heat, remembering how it felt to have Harley’s knot snug inside of his ass. (In my cunt, Jared thinks, testing out the word in his head. He’s not sure he likes the nonchalant way Jeff uses that word, but he has to admit that it feels right in Jared’s belly. Harley bred my cunt. The shame, and the undercurrent of excitement, make his eyes sting.)

Jeff looks smugly amused, but he softens suddenly, like maybe he recognizes that he’s coming on too strong for Jared’s first day. “Use of your cunt is what we’re paying you for, isn’t it? I’d like to take a look.” Jeff gestures at Jared’s midsection.

Jared fumbles for a second, uncertain. He’s not sure he can bring himself to just…show Jeff his asshole. But Jeff is right, this is what he’s being paid for. It’s clearly part of what the job requires.

Jeff’s eyes narrow impatiently, and it starts Jared into action. He turns slowly, reaching back and digging his fingers into his own asscheeks, starting to spread them apart.

“No, no—won’t be able to see much of anything that way! On your hands and knees.”

Jared stops. Somehow, getting down on the floor with his exposed ass in the air is even harder than just tugging his cheeks apart to bare his crack. “Look, why do you need to see?” Jared asks. “Is this necessary?” He meets Jeff’s eyes, refusing to look away.

“You bent right over to show it to Harley,” Jeff says this matter-of-factly, but the knowledge that it’s true makes Jared’s face flame. (You couldn’t wait to flash your hole at the first horny dog you met, he thinks sickly.) 

Jeff continues, “When you’re working with me, I’m going to need you to be on your hands and knees at all times. The studs need to see you as their bitch, accessible to them whenever they want to mate you.” His tone is still matter-of-fact, reasonable, and Jared finds himself too startled and mortified to argue.

He slowly lowers himself to the ground and spreads his legs while Jeff stands over him. Jensen says he's a good guy, Jared reminds himself. His bark is worse than his bite. 

Jeff looks pleased and reaches out to ruffle Jared’s hair, almost petting him. For a moment, Jared feels like a dog being rewarded for good behavior.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Jeff says, “let me see that cunt.” 

It sounds so much like a line from a cheesy porno, the kind of porn Jared has watched a million times, except in those movies, the guy is always talking to a hot chick. Never to a guy (a guy who’s being paid to let dogs have total access to his hole, breed his cunt).

Jared wants to die from embarrassment, but his cock is responding nonetheless.

Jeff bends closer, eyes hot on Jared’s exposed hole, roaming to take in his heavy, damp cock. There’s no way he hasn’t noticed Jared’s arousal, but he doesn’t comment on that.

“Look at you blush,” he says, instead. “Are you embarrassed? And after what you let Jensen watch you do…or rather, what you let Harley do to you with an audience.”

He straightens up, but Jared keeps his head down, hiding his face.

“That’s okay,” Jeff says, conspiratorially. “The ones who are ashamed always come the hardest when they’re stuffed with dogdick.”

Jared’s cock jerks hard at the words, bouncing where it hangs, and Jeff chuckles.

“Look, Jensen didn’t mention anything about crawling around—” Jared starts, but Jeff interrupts.

“Jensen knows that I have my own rules. You’ll be allowed to walk most of the time, but during the hours you’re working with me, I expect you to have your cunt in the air. Your job is to be the breeding bitch for my dogs.” Jeff pauses, then adds, “Isn’t it?”

The silence is heavy, and Jared can feel his skin prickling under Jeff’s gaze. Jeff's question feels like a test. Jared thinks about getting up, but he’s getting a sick thrill out of being totally exposed on the ground while someone explains his duties as dogbitch. After a long moment, he nods slowly.

“Right. My job is to train the dogs,” Jeff continues, “and I don’t have time to worry about making sure you’re submitting to them properly. Do you understand? When we’re working together, I need you head down, hole open, ready to take a dog cock at the slightest sign of interest.”

Jared feels shaky but he finds himself nodding again. He’s conflicted—the way Jeff is talking to him is making his stomach roll. It’s humiliating. But, at the same time, his cock is responding, and his exposed hole feels achy and desperate. And after all, he tells himself, I’ll only be working with Jeff a few hours a week.

“Good,” Jeff says. “Now, I need to observe you getting mated to get a sense of how you handle that, so I can determine how to work with you.” He opens the door and heads out into the hallway, gesturing for Jared to follow along after him. “Let’s get you bred.”


End file.
